


not so subtle

by icarusinflight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Shame on you, Sneaky Sex, i mean cmon guys you're around werewolves there is zero chance of you going undetected, lmao nah do what you want, only not so sneaky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 11:45:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12958497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/pseuds/icarusinflight
Summary: The party is boring.Is what Stiles would say if anyone asked.It’s not true though. The party is fun, and filled with his friends; he’s been having a great time.The party is fun.It's just Derek is more interesting, more fun than the party.





	not so subtle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CallieB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallieB/gifts).



The party is boring.

Is what Stiles would say if anyone asked.

It’s not true though. The party is fun, and filled with his friends; he’s been having a great time.

The party is fun.

It's just Derek is more interesting, more fun than the party.

So he sidles up to Derek, slips himself in behind him, wrapping his arms around Derek from where he stands. He rests his head on Derek’s right shoulder, gives a friendly nod to Erica and Boyd, and happily relaxes into his new chosen spot. Derek twists his head to give him a kiss on the cheek before returning to face and talk to the couple.

Derek holds the conversation – for all intents and purposes ignoring Stiles.

Which – when everything is considered – is fair. Stiles isn’t trying to pull him away from his conversation. He’s just happier at the party – now that his party includes holding Derek. His hands are wrapped around Derek’s stomach, and he can feel the hard muscle underneath his fingers when he skates them across the front of Derek’s henley – his touches could be innocent. Though he thinks the way he slips his right thumb behind Derek’s belt and just below his waistband might be too much – could be pushing the the boundary there – in his defence Derek hooks his own thumb behind the waistband all the time – why would Stiles’ touch be any different? His thumb rests against Derek’s warm skin, and he does move his thumb, small swipes across the skin and through the beginnings of hair he can feel with his thumb. But he doesn’t move it any further down. It could still be entirely innocent.

There’s also the matter of his hardening cock pressing against Derek’s ass.

But that doesn’t mean much really. It’s an automatic reaction to Derek’s presence. And really, he should accept at least half the blame for that. Being this close to Derek, feeling his muscles beneath his hand, having his head resting on Derek’s shoulder, being immersed in the smell that is distinctly _Derek_ . He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his nose, enjoying the smell. It takes everything in him not to thrust forward into Derek then, and those that say he has no self-control know _nothing Jon Snow. They know nothing_.

He knows he’s been caught when he opens his eyes and Erica has cocked an eyebrow at him, and if he had any ability to feel shame anymore he probably would – but he’s been living surrounded by wolves for too long to get embarrassed by things like how attractive he finds Derek. That’s old news. He gives Erica a bit of a shrug, and she huffs a laugh before returning her attention to Derek.

He’s happy here – inside the bubble of Derek’s space. He has been enjoying himself, talking to people here, discussing everything from how the Mets are going (not as good as he’d like – never as good as he’d like), to how people’s studies are going (everyone studies better away from Beacon Hills – what a surprise), to the recent increase in wildlife roadkill (ew, Parrish – why?).

He listens along to the conversation between the three werewolves distantly – he’s already talked to Erica about her architecture studies when he was talking to her and Isaac. He feels proud of her for pushing through with studies – both in Beacon Hills and now at college. She struggled after being kidnapped by the alphas – and the near death experience – but she’s doing really well now.

He’s more just listening to the ebb and flow of the conversation – letting the words wash over him and enjoying being around his friends and – bonus – being in contact with Derek.

“We’re going to get drinks.” Erica says. “Do you want one Derek? Stiles?”

“I’m fine thanks.” Derek responds, and Stiles shakes his head – his face brushing softly against the scruff on Derek’s neck – he repeats the movement again just to feel the brush against his cheek.

When they walk away Derek shifts – not removing Stiles’ arms from around him – but twisting to face him. Derek wraps his arms around Stiles – placing his hands low on Stiles’ hips. When Stiles relaxes into the embrace, It feels a bit like they could be dancing – if there was any movement involved instead of standing still in each other arms.

“Are you having fun?” Derek asks, rubbing his chin against Stiles’ collarbone – sending a chill through Derek’s body.

“More now.” Stiles answers with a smile.

“Do you want to leave?” Derek whispers directly into his ear. Stiles considers the offer – he’s tempted – the party has taken on that comfortable soft feeling now that he’s relaxed – but home would be even more comfortable – and have the added bonus of more options to touch Derek.

Stiles shakes his head though; he wasn’t actually thinking of heading home – and Lydia would probably chew his ear off tomorrow if he left her Christmas party early – besides he is having a good time. But he does want to take advantage of the moment he has with Derek, so he leans back, pulling Derek’s face away from his neck and capturing his lips in a kiss.

Stiles pulls Derek in tighter against him, pressing their bodies against each other tight. He takes advantage of the position to press his erection in hard against Derek’s solid thigh muscles. Derek reacts by slipping his thigh between Stiles’ legs, giving him the pressure he wants and he gasps into Derek’s mouth, opening his lips, and Derek takes advantage of the moment to slip his tongue in, licking along his teeth. Stiles tries to grind down against Derek’s leg, even though he really shouldn’t be at a party – even less so at a party surrounded by werewolves. He’s trying to ignore that fact, and thinks he’s doing a good job until a wolf whistle drags him out of his happy place.

He stops all movement, and buries his face into Derek’s shoulder, refusing to look up and give the pack anything. _Oh hey embarrassment, there you are._

“Get a room SuperBat.” Erica, the obvious offender calls out. Stiles releases one hand to flip her a choice finger. Derek huffs a breath of laughter against Stiles’ ear.

“Come on Batman, let’s go outside.”

Derek pulls them apart, slipping his hand around Stiles’ wrist and tugging him along, leaving the sounds of laughter behind them.

 

* * *

 

Derek pulls Stiles outside – still pulling him by the grip on his wrist. Jackson and Danny are sitting on the outside sofa, Jackson takes one look at the two of them – his nostrils flare for a second and be pulls a face – standing up from the couch.

“Nope.” Jackson says, and he shrivels his nose again – gives Danny’s shoulder a shove. “I do not want to be around you two right now, neither do you Danny – just – trust me on this.”

Danny shrugs, but does as Jackson told him – standing up and following Jackson as he stalks off inside.

And then they’re alone.

“So,” Derek’s voice is pitched low and it sends a shiver through Stiles’ body. Derek places his hand on Stiles’ hips, fingers wrapping tight and and the contact almost feels like it _burns_ it feels so good, “care to pick up where we left off?”

Stiles would say yes, but he chooses to let his actions speak for him, capturing Derek’s lips again, wrapping his hands around Derek – resting them low on his hips. Derek is wearing a trademark Henley today, and Stiles is appreciative of that fact now, as he can slip his hands up underneath it, running his hands over his skin coming around to rest at Derek’s back – at the dimples he knows are there – the dimples he knows like the back of his hand. He presses his thumbs in the dimples, and pulls Derek in towards him. When Derek moves towards Stiles he pushes forward, forcing Stiles to step backward until his back comes up against the wall.

He slips his fingers below into the band of Derek’s jeans, letting them skim along the skin underneath. Derek pushes a knee between Stiles’ legs returning the pressure from before, and his reaction is no less for the break, his body is ready to get right back on board – like there was never any pause.

Stiles would like to deny that he’s essentially rubbing himself off against Derek’s leg – but he is, pushing in closer against it until suddenly Derek removes it, and the oh so delightful pressure is gone.

“Derek.” He can hear the pleading in his tone, he is not above begging, he will beg, he just wants the delicious pressure back.

He probably shouldn’t be encouraging this, shouldn’t be begging Derek to touch him again, to give him _anything_ . They should be back inside, should definitely not be _here_ – doing _this_ , but Stiles can’t bring himself to care. He can’t think of any good reason not to beg Derek, can only think of that tantalising pressure again – how much he wants it – wants Derek.

Derek’s right hand is pulling at his belt, flicking the buckle to the side to release it, before pulling it roughly away from his jeans – his movements jerky – and maybe Stiles isn’t the only one feeling a little overwhelmed by all of this. Derek flicks the button open, and the pants are loose enough that it’s all that’s really needed – before Derek is pushing his boxers down roughly. Stiles only has a moment to consider the rough wall his ass is pressed hard into before Derek is wrapping his hand around Stiles’ cock.

“Ah!” The sound is unintentional, as is the way Stiles thrusts up into Derek’s fist – it just feels too good not to. It’s perfect, Derek knows him so well, knows how much pressure Stiles likes.

Derek is never overly vocal, and that extends to sex – but he does give a huff of laughter. He’s not laughing _at_ Stiles though, there’s no amusement at his wordless struggle, it’s an affectionate laughter, as if Stiles and Derek are sharing a joke that no one else is in on. Stiles _loves it_ – he’d laugh along if he could do anything other than try to remember to breath.

Derek lets Stiles keep thrusting into his fist, short movements which Derek carries through into longer strokes. It’s a little dry, and his ass is rubbing uncomfortably against the brick wall, but there’s nothing he’d rather being doing.

Stiles is panting now, and Derek is kissing into the dip where his neck becomes shoulder. Little kisses which feel just as electric as the hand on his cock, both of them building the pressure inside his body.

“Derek.” He gasps. “Derek, I’m close.” It’s a struggle to get the words out. He’s not sure what he’s hoping to achieve with them, but a warning seems reasonable; although nothing else about this scenario is.

He definitely isn’t expecting for Derek to drop to his knees in front of him, and the sudden change throws Stiles off balance. He almost follows Derek to the ground – and it would be with far less grace than Derek exhibited in his own descent to the ground. But then Derek is wrapping his lips around Stiles’ cock and that’s all it takes to push him over the edge. Stiles is gripping Derek’s shoulders – trying to anchor himself to them to keep himself standing up as he pulses into Derek’s mouth.

“Fuck.” He whispers, leaning back against the wall, resting his head gently against the bricks. He’s trying to slow his breathing, trying to get his brain to come back to him from wherever it’s disappeared to like it always does after an orgasm. “Fuck, Derek.”

The grin Derek shoots him should be illegal, especially when he’s still kneeling in front of Stiles, face level with Stiles’ softening cock.

“Come here.” Stiles says, tugging on Derek’s shoulder. It’s just the illusion of a pull, Stiles doesn’t have the strength to pull Derek up normally, let alone when he’s just had an orgasm which _literally_ threatened to put him on his ass. But Derek acquiesces – standing up and bringing himself face to face with Stiles – capturing Derek’s lips in a kiss. He can taste himself on Derek’s tongue, something he secretly enjoys, if not exactly for the taste then the knowledge of why the taste is there. He thinks Derek knows though, and Stiles isn’t exactly subtle about it either – subtlety has never been one of his better skills.

Derek has no room to judge him here though. Not that Stiles thinks he ever would.

He breaks away from the kiss, and sinks to his knees. His legs are wobbly, but between leaning back against the wall and his hands hanging on tight to Derek’s thighs, Stiles thinks he can support himself.

He rubs Derek’s thighs appreciatively. He’s always had a thing for Derek’s thighs, and if this were happening in their bedroom, Stiles would definitely take the time to appreciate them – but they’re pushing it as it is and they’re lucky they’ve gone undetected this far.

Although considering the wolves inside it’s probably less undetected and more willfully ignored. But Stiles doesn’t want to think about that right now with Derek’s cock currently in his face. Instead he rubs his cheek against the clothed cock.

Above him Derek releases a small moan, easily one of Stiles’ favourite noises.

A little reluctantly Stiles moves his face away from Derek’s groin, turning his attention to the button on Derek’s jeans. The sound of the zipper never fails to elicit a sinful response from Stiles, classical conditioning at its finest. His cock gives a valiant twitch, still soft, and Stiles realizes now that he didn’t even put his own dick away before crouching down; but he can’t bring himself to care about that right now.

Stiles does the very least he can do to get Derek’s jeans open, pushing them open just far enough to get Derek’s hard cock out. Stiles takes it in one hand, and puts his other hand back on Derek’s thigh, because he always wants to be touching them. It could also have something to do with the fact he’s still feeling a little woozy from his recent orgasm – but Derek doesn’t need to know that.

Derek has one arm braced against the wall, and the other has come to rest gently against his hair, carding through the short strands – not yet gripping them – although Stiles knows from experience that will change.

Stiles is shaking from adrenaline, the recent orgasm still affecting his movements – but this is muscle memory – his body knows how this works and he relaxes into the familiarity of it. He tips his head up, looking at where Derek has his head resting against the arm at the wall, looking down to Stiles, and he maintains the eye contact even as he guides Derek’s cock into his mouth, closings his lips around it. Derek’s eyes fall closed as he lets out another moan and Stiles lets his own follow suit.

Stiles focuses on the weight and heat in his mouth, on the hold he has on Derek’s cock. Derek’s hand closes on his hair, and Stiles gives a smile around the cock in his mouth, as much as he can.

Derek starts to rock back and forth into his mouth, using the hold in his hair to guide him. Stiles releases his hand from Derek’s cock, bringing it to rest on his thigh, focusing on the feel of Derek’s cock moving in and out of his mouth. The tenderness starts to pull at his lips. Derek is groaning and Stiles feels Derek’s thighs tense beneath his hands just before he feels Derek coming in his mouth. He swallows it down, pulling away from Derek’s cock with a final swipe across the head.

Stiles feels completely drained, his earlier orgasm and the effort he’s expended catching up with him as he leans back trying to get his breathing back under control, something he hadn’t even noticed he needed to do until now.

Derek turns away from him slightly, tucking himself back into his briefs, and he’s pulling Stiles up from the ground. Derek’s strong hands on his biceps pulling him up, helping where Stiles can no longer trust his legs.

Derek captures his lips again, groaning – possibly at the taste of himself in Stiles’ mouth. Stiles is so distracted by Derek’s lips, he doesn't even realise he’s being helped into his pants and fastened up. Stiles breaks the kiss, leaning his head away to place a kiss to Derek’s collarbone, before attempting again to bring his breath under control.

Stiles’ hands rest against Derek’s hips and Derek’s arms are wrapped around Stiles’ shoulders and it feels again like they could be dancing. He’s just noticed that he can hear the music from inside, something he hadn’t realise till now, too distracted by other, more pressing issues.

He sways his hips a little, using his hands on Derek’s hips to drag him along with him, and Derek capitulates, swaying his hips along with him.

“They’re all going to know aren’t they?” Stiles mumbles into Derek’s collarbone, and Derek gives a snort of laughter.

“Yes Stiles.” He replies, the amusement clear in his voice. “They’re all going to know.”

Stiles groans. “I blame you for this.”

Derek huffs, the barest hint of laughter against his skin, but otherwise ignores the comment.

It’s not until the song changes, a different tune coming on which is much less danceable that either of them breaks the silence again.

“Do you want to go back in?” Derek asks, placing a kiss against Stiles’ neck.

“Yes...” Stiles replies, then hastens to add. “But... not just yet.”

“Okay.” Stiles can feel the smile against his neck. “When you’re ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> omg Callieb. You have no idea how excited I was to get you as my giftee I am such a huge fan of yours.
> 
> I hope you love this. I really really hope you do.
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me life  
> I'll add my tumblr after the reveal!


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